


The Long Con

by zerodaryls



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Aziraphale Has a Vulva (Good Omens), Aziraphale is a Little Shit, Crowley Has A Vulva (Good Omens), Crowley cries a lot, Emotional Roller Coaster, Feel Free to Skip to It, Hurt/Comfort, I think it could stand on its own and make sense, Insecurity, Like Copious Amounts of Doting, Praise Kink, Protective Aziraphale (Good Omens), Protective Crowley (Good Omens), Psychological Torture, Ridiculous amounts of fluff, The 2nd Chapter is Mostly Just Sex, There is literally no set tone to this story and I am so sorry, aaaand since it's gonna come up later..., but we already knew this, doting
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-28 17:13:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23070748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zerodaryls/pseuds/zerodaryls
Summary: Heaven and Hell may not be able to kill the angel and the demon that averted their precious apocalypse... but given enough time, they can come up with some clever ideas for revenge.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Kudos: 20





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this started out as a general angsty hurt/comfort fic that wasn't meant to be more than like 4k words and then I just kept writing one Saturday and it ended up being more than double that. I might even add more to it... because I love dying and being dead. We shall see.

In the weeks after the averted apocalypse, Crowley and Aziraphale had wasted no time in establishing their relationship in no uncertain terms. Fearless professions of love, eager kisses, and public hand-holding had become the comfortable norm for the pair. They’d yet to become intimate in the way so many humans did, but Aziraphale was content. After millennia of looking over his shoulder, it was nice to simply bask in Crowley’s presence without a care in the world.

One afternoon, however, Aziraphale learned that he’d stopped caring perhaps a bit too soon.

Crowley had been at his flat, caring for his plants, leaving Aziraphale alone in the bookshop that had become home to both of them. The angel was reading in his chair in the back when he heard the door open.

“Back so soon?” he called out, not looking up from the book in his hands. Given that the store was quite clearly closed from the outside, he figured it must have been Crowley who’d entered.

He was gravely mistaken.

“Well, we thought we’d give you some time to rest after all the chaos you started last month.”

A chill went down Aziraphale’s spine when he realized the voice belonged to a demon, but not _his_ demon. He looked up with a startle, and found himself surrounded by three of hell’s loyal soldiers. He didn’t even have time to utter a distressed “ _fuck_ ” before he found himself on the floor, losing consciousness.

“Aziraphale.”

The angel blinked, taking in his new location. Hell. Of course. He whimpered at the soreness on his face, having hit the ground terribly hard before being whisked off to the low-lit greyness that surrounded him now. As he grew in awareness he realized he was being held up by each arm, a demon on either side of him, and a crowd of demons watched him from all around. Beelzebub themself stood directly in front of Aziraphale, arms crossed, face grim as usual. Right, bad news for him, then. Quite bad news.

Aziraphale straightened his legs and sent glares to the demons that said, _I can stand on my own, thank you very much._ They let go, seemingly still intimidated after hearing that the angel had survived hellfire. Ah, right! Surely they’d been told about what had happened upstairs!

“You– You can’t kill me,” he spat. “I’m immune to hellfire!” Unless… they couldn’t possibly have figured out already about his little switch with Crowley? He held his breath and winced.

“We’re not here to kill you, Aziraphale.” Beelzebub gave an uncharacteristic smile, which sent alarms off in the angel’s head. “Just needed a word with you. About the demon Crowley and your… relationship to him.”

“My…” Aziraphale feigned innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”

“Enough. We know you’ve rarely been seen apart since averting armageddon. We know you weren’t just working together. What is the nature of your relationship?” Beelzebub demanded.

Aziraphale stammered, “W-Well, I don’t see how that really m-matters, in the grand scheme of things. It’s over, you know. We’ve… We’ve won!” He nodded quickly, more to reassure himself than to convince anyone else. “And there’s nothing you can do about it,” he stated weakly.

“Perhaps not, but tell us, Aziraphale: are you in love with the demon Crowley?”

Aziraphale blushed. This was dangerous territory. He didn’t want to deny Crowley any longer, but he feared that revealing the fullness of their relationship might lead to torment for the both of them. So, “I- I don’t know what you’re implying!”

“It’s a simple question. _Yes_ , or _no_?”

“I… I…”

“You do love him, don’t you? Answer the question and you can go.”

That didn’t seem right. Aziraphale wanted to run, but he knew he wouldn’t make it more than two feet without being knocked down by a handful of demons desperate to hit an angel. He decided the best course of action was to stall. “W-well, I… I don’t _hate_ him, you see, I’m an angel, my nature is to love, so really, I love _everyone_ , and of course the demon Crowley is included in the ranks of, well, everyone, so–”

“ _Say it_ , principality!”

Aziraphale whimpered, knowing his face had already betrayed any chance he’d had at lying. “Alright! Yes, fine! I love him. I don’t know why you care to know, but yes, we are in love! It doesn’t change anything, we’ve still won! We stopped armageddon! And no matter w-what you do to me, you cannot take away my love for him, o-or his love for me.” 

An evil smirk from Beelzebub sent a feeling of dread throughout Aziraphale’s body. “ _Crowley_? In _love_? With _YOU_?” The demon spat out laughter like they’d just sipped on spoilt milk, and the surrounding demons echoed the empty sound. “You really haven’t figured it out?”

Aziraphale gave a nervous smile and asked, “Beg pardon?”

“You think Crowley _loves_ you? A _demon_? In _love_?”

Suddenly growing in confidence, Aziraphale glared at the Prince of Hell as he said, “I’ll have you know, we’ve _chosen_ each other. We’re on our own side. Quite _officially_. We practically shook hands on it! And… And nothing you could ever do could come between us! You can’t even _kill_ us!”

Beelzebub appeared stunned. “He really did it, then. He managed to make an angel _fall_ for him.” They nodded to the crowds of demons behind them. “We’d a bet going on about whether he’d be able to pull it off.”

“I– I’m sorry, how do you mean?”

“Oh, you miserable idiot. Crowley has been _tempting_ you. You were his first and most longstanding assignment. From the day you met, he’s been playing a _game_ with you. And it appears he’s won.”

Aziraphale blinked, his chest tightening as he swallowed thickly around his anxiety. “I… I don’t believe that for a minute. Crowley is the most sincere-”

“Demon. Crowley is sincerely a _demon_ , you foolish principality. You were just a job. We had to see if it could be done–a demon tempting an angel to sin. To _fall_. It looks as though he succeeded.”

Aziraphale was speechless for a moment, then, determinedly, “I could never believe that.”

Beelzebub gave a half-shrug. “Believe me or don’t. Doesn’t make it any less true that he was put in that garden to tempt _you_ , not those ridiculous humans. They were icing on the cake. _You_ were always the real target.”

“I– No! That _cannot_ be true!” Aziraphale blinked back tears. “Why are you telling me this?”

“We know you’ll never join our ranks. Not after such a betrayal of trust, having one of our brightest manipulating you all those years. We’re not intent on earning your loyalty. We just want to rob heaven of their precious holy soldiers. And to make an angel suffer, to make him realize he has fallen, and for _nothing_ … It’s a glorious victory. And now that we know it can be done, we can start turning angels one by one.”

Aziraphale stood quietly for a moment, then gulped before musing aloud, “I… I’m not fallen. I would _know_ if I… I would _know_ …”

“Would you? The angel who allowed himself to be conned by a demon for _millennia_?” The crowds of demons rumbled with laughter. Beelzebub snarled. “ _Fallen_ angel.”

Tears streamed down Aziraphale’s cheeks as he whispered, “No.”

“Yes.” Beelzebub waved a dismissive hand and turned their back to Aziraphale. “Away with you. Go back to your miserable life. _Alone_.”

With a snap from the Prince of Hell, Aziraphale found himself back in his bookshop, huddled on the floor, just as he’d been seconds before his abduction. He sniffled as he pushed himself to his feet. Realizing his legs weren’t intent on holding him up, he allowed himself to collapse in his chair and choked out a sob.

“Aziraphale?”

The angel immediately recognized the voice’s owner. He snapped his head up to find Crowley on the other side of the room, a concerned look on his face. “Oh, _Crowley_!” He gave the demon very little time to react before he launched himself into his arms, his head pressed tightly into the crook of his neck as he clutched at Crowley’s back. “I was taken! Hell– Beelzebub– They… they said the most... the most _horrid_ things. That you had been faking it all along. Your– Your love for me. That it was all just one, long temptation.” He sniffed, but brought his head up so that teary eyes could meet yellow. “I didn’t believe them, of course, not for a moment. I knew they were simply trying to rouse me. I knew as soon as I... as soon as I got home you would set this all straight.”

Crowley quirked a brow. “Set what straight?”

“Well, that it isn’t true, of course!”

A smirk. “Thought you said you didn’t believe them.”

Aziraphale huffed through his tears. “Well, of _course_ I didn’t, but the entire affair was completely _exhausting_ , and I could really use some, ah–”

“Reassurance, got it.” Crowley blew out a puff of air. “Well,” he drawled, “I hate to do this to you–I mean, I really wanted to make it special. Bit bothered they took that from me, really.”

Aziraphale’s brows furrowed as he took a step back and searched Crowley’s eyes for the answer to a question he was too afraid to ask. “Took... what?”

Crowley sighed. “I wanted to do the big reveal myself.” He gave a pointed look. “Though, really, I s’pose this is better.” A sly smile. “You came to me for comfort and I get to give the final _kick_.”

Aziraphale felt as though the ground was collapsing beneath him. Like his entire world was going grey, fading into the background. “No, I– I won’t believe it.”

Crowley’s smile spread ever-wider. “Believe it or not, _angel_ , I’m telling the truth. Would I _lie_ to you?” The chuckle that left the demon’s lips made Aziraphale feel sick.

“No,” said Aziraphale, stumbling back and grasping at the sofa cushion when his bottom hit the ground. “No, no.”

“Oh, yes, I’m afraid.” Crowley grinned. “What’s the matter, Aziraphale? Did somebody go and catch feelings for a demon?” He tutted, shaking his head. “Bad move, that. I mean, you really think I could ever love you? My being a demon _aside,_ ” an amused chuckle, “you think I would love _you_? Look at yourself, you utterly _pathetic_ angel. I couldn’t have fallen in love with you if I’d been stuck with you for 6,000 _more_ years! Who the hell _would_? Your corporation is plain, your bookshop is boring, you aren’t the _least_ bit interesting… I could go on.”

“ _No!_ ” Tears streamed freely down Aziraphale’s face as he looked up at the demon with a quivering lip. “Crowley, please, _stop_ this! This isn’t… This isn’t funny.” It was a trick. A prank gone horridly wrong. It _had_ to be. Aziraphale didn’t want to believe Crowley would play such a cruel joke on him, but the alternative was _unthinkable_.

“Oh, I don’t know,” Crowley said casually, dipping his hands into his pockets and leaning back on his heels. “I think it’s rather amusing.” He tilted his head and frowned at the sobbing angel on the floor. “Say, Aziraphale, are you feeling okay? You’ve taken a pretty bad _fall_.” He dared to _snicker_ at that, which elicited a strangled cry from the angel. “Need a hand?”

Aziraphale lifted his head just enough to register the hand that’d been extended toward him. He couldn’t bring himself to speak, or even look up at the demon hovering above him. He could hardly keep conscious. Every piece of his broken being begged him to shut down, to curl up on that dusty old floor and drift away.

And so he did.

Aziraphale awoke to the sound of Crowley’s voice uttering his name. The demon was shaking him by the shoulders, pleading with him to wake up. For the briefest moment, Aziraphale smiled and curled into the demon’s embrace. Then he remembered the events leading up to his having passed out. He summoned the strength to shove Crowley off of him and scooted himself back on the floor until his head hit the wall with a thud.

Crowley blinked. “…Aziraphale?”

“Please,” came the broken reply, “ _please_ leave me alone, Crowley. You’ve done your work well, you…” a choked sob, “you wily _serpent_.” The nickname was bitterly devoid of all the affection it had previously held, replaced rather with a surrendered brokenness.

“Aziraphale!” Crowley’s voice was brighter than ever. He was practically laughing as he exclaimed, “You’re–You’re _alive_!”

“Hardly,” the angel mumbled. “Please, leave me be.”

Aziraphale had been about to look up, to send the demon a pleading glare, when he found himself wrapped in the traitorous arms of the demon he thought had loved him. What game was he playing _now_? What more pain could he _possibly_ inflict? He tried to shrug out of the demon’s clutches, pushing against his chest as he whimpered, “Please, Crowley, what more can you do to me? What more can you take away? I’ve _nothing_.” He let out a broken sob. “All I ever had was you.”

“‘M right here, angel. Right here,” said Crowley, refusing to loosen his grip on the angel. He pressed a kiss to Aziraphale’s forehead, which earned a broken whimper in response. “I’m right here, I’m not leaving. I thought you were dead.”

Aziraphale had begun to tremble in the demon’s arms. “Please,” he said. “You know I won’t hurt you, Crowley. You’ve... you’ve manipulated me enough to ensure I could _never_ bear to see you hurt, no matter,” a broken gasp, “no matter _how_ you’ve hurt me. But–”

“Angel, _what_ are you on about?”

“–I _will_ push you away. I will force you to leave. I can banish you from this place; you must know that.”

“Aziraphale, _what_ in–”

“I will do whatever I must in order to suffer in _peace_.” Aziraphale, despite his quick descent into apathy, managed a bitter laugh. “You’ll be proud to know that I’ll be contemplating some dramatic action on my part. An end, perhaps. Just let me do so _alone_. Find…” a sniffle, “find another angel to corrupt. Now that you’ve had your practice, you can... you can…”

And then something snapped inside of Aziraphale. An anger the depths of which he’d never experienced before, nor thought possible for an angel. But, then, he’d been _corrupted_ , hadn’t he? He felt himself ball his fists, and before he knew it he was hitting Crowley in the gut. The demon jumped back, his arms flying up to block the hits that Aziraphale continued launching at him. “How _could_ you?!” he shouted, standing to better attack his opponent. “After all this time, how could you be so _cruel_? Did you really feel _nothing_?!” He was going for Crowley’s face, now. 

The demon recoiled, looking more hurt than Aziraphale was able to process at the time. “Angel, _stop_!”

“No, _fuck_ you, Crowley!” Aziraphale choked out a laugh. “If that’s even your name. Did you make it up, that whole changing of the name? Was it all a part of the plan? To manipulate me into friendship with you? Into… into _loving_ you?” Hot tears streamed down the angel’s face as he continued, his knuckles white from the tightness of his fists. His nails were beginning to break through the flesh of his own palms. “Was _any_ of it real? Any of it at _all_?”

Crowley, his mouth gone slack, lowered his hands briefly, flat palms facing Aziraphale in a gesture that said ‘calm down’. “Aziraphale, listen very caref–”

With Crowley’s guard down, Aziraphale launched (and successfully landed) a hit to the demon’s face, just below his right eye. It sent him stumbling back a few feet, and when he looked up to see the angel approaching him, fists still balled, Crowley raised a hand... and snapped.

Aziraphale found himself bound to his office chair, his hands behind his back. As soon as he realized what had happened, he shot Crowley a look of murder.

Crowley raised a finger. “I _will_ gag you if you interrupt me, angel. Now, I’m going to tell you what hell _I_ just went through, and then we can figure out exactly what _you’ve_ been through. And I am _so sorry_ they did…,” he sucked in a breath, “whatever they did to you, Aziraphale. Just let me… Let me tell you–” 

“I will not allow myself to be manipulated any–” Turned out, Crowley was serious about the gag. With a short snap, Aziraphale found his mouth was taped shut. If looks could kill, Crowley would’ve been reduced to a sizzling puddle of demonic goo on the ground.

“ _Listen_ , angel.” Crowley’s voice cracked as he continued, “I thought you were dead. Gone. Forever. So excuse me if I need a _minute_ to process that you’re _here_.” He looked the angel up and down.

Aziraphale’s eyes continued to glare disbelievingly at him, but they were irritated from the tears and had sort of puffed up around the edges, which made the glare somewhat less intimidating and a bit more… pathetic. Crowley winced at the bruises on Aziraphale’s forehead and cheek, and reached out a gentle hand to heal them. The angel snarled from behind the gag, but it didn’t deter Crowley from brushing his fingers gently over purple skin, coaxing it back to its natural color. Aziraphale whimpered at the tender touch, but maintained his glare at Crowley.

Seemingly satisfied with his work, the demon stepped back, and after a deep breath, resumed speaking. “Look, angel… whatever’s happened to you, and what happened to me… This is all some sort of…,” he sucked in a breath, “I don’t know, payback. Heaven and hell... They’re trying to torture us. I think they wanted you to kill me. Or get so depressed that you kill yourself. Or both of us. Or get _me_ so depressed that I kill myself, after seeing you killed yourself. Romeo and Juliet. I dunno. Death, probably, anyhow, for at least one of us…”

The demon’s gaze had drifted to the floor, unfocused. He shook his head and looked back up to the angel in front of him. “Anyway, _your_ lot took me upstairs and told me they’d taken you to hell to be killed.” He exhaled slowly. Then, “They said they had a few different methods of torture for you, said they’d boiled holy water with hellfire or something and that after torturing you they’d tossed you in it and you’d drowned or burned to death or both or whatever. I didn’t believe ‘em, ‘course, ‘cause that sounded…,” he shook his head, “I dunno, _wrong_ , but…”

Crowley’s lips started to tremble, and Aziraphale, still unsure of whether to trust the demon, found his eyes widening despite himself.

“Then they brought in your body. And it _looked_ like you, Aziraphale,” the demon said, his voice small. “What was left of it. Burnt, shriveled from the... from the…” Crowley seemed to blink himself out of the imagery, and retrained his stare on the very much _alive_ angel in front of him. “I thought it was you. Oh, I screamed, angel. I wept. Pathetic sight, me. On the floor of heaven, clawin’ at the ground... I’ll be the first to admit what a wreck I was, ‘cause it’s only fair since, well, I just saw you go through... Whatever the hell that was. What the _hell_ did they do to you, angel?”

Aziraphale made a muffled sound from behind the tape, then gave Crowley a pointed look. Crowley snapped, and then the words poured out of the angel in monotone, as though he’d told him before. “They said you’d been assigned to tempt me from the very beginning. That you were tasked with corrupting an angel, with leading me into sin. Get me to properly fall, if you could.”

Crowley looked hurt. “And you believed them? Just like that? After all our years–”

Aziraphale’s face must have portrayed the sting of the memory of what Crowley–or, rather, perhaps, _not_ -Crowley had said to him just hours ago. His expression effectively cut Crowley off mid-sentence.

“‘M sorry, angel. Go on,” Crowley’s voice softened. “What happened?”

With a hesitant blink, Aziraphale continued, “You... You said it was true. You said you were pleased to be able to give me the ‘final kick’, as it were.” His anger was beginning to subside as uncertainty settled back in, and the tears, damn them, started back up. “You said you could _never_ love me. That I was foolish for believing anyone would- would-”

“ _Fuck_ ,” Crowley said, drawing out the word as a growl rose within him. “I’ll kill ‘em, _all_ of them. _Especially_ whatever second-rate demon they got to impersonate me, telling you such utter _horse shit._ You _know_ that was all shit, right, angel?”

_“_ Well, that’s the trouble, dear. They were rather convincing. Hardly second-rate.” Aziraphale’s lip quivered as he said, his voice low, “I don’t believe I can trust you anymore, Crowley.” That Crowley’s heart sank in his chest wasn’t difficult to tell, by the look of him. But, then, Aziraphale wasn’t convinced that it wasn’t all an act. An elaborate plan to extend his torture. “I wish I could,” the angel whispered. “I would give anything to… to have you back. To know you loved me. I feel as though I’ve lost you entirely,” the words came out in a whimper. “If you’re telling the truth, I do wish I could comfort you after what heaven… _allegedly_ did to you. But I can’t… I can’t trust you, Crowley, I just _can’t_.”

Crowley’s voice grew desperate as he rambled out, “I _love_ you, angel! I couldn’t hurt you if they tried to _make_ me! It wasn’t me you saw, Aziraphale, I swear it wasn’t me. I… I thought you were dead! Truly, irrevocably _dead_! I just– Please, angel, I’ve been through hell–” Aziraphale barked a bitter laugh. “I– I know, you went through _literal_ hell, I know, angel, I’m sorry, I just… Can– Can I kiss you? Please? Please let me kiss you. Please just… I just need to know you’re really here, I need to feel you, I can’t–” a broken sob sprang up from the demon’s throat. “I need you. I need you. Please.”

Aziraphale gave a tired sigh. “I’m not altogether certain that you aren’t just trying to manipulate me further. Draw out my suffering.”

“Aziraphale,” Crowley whimpered. “It’s _me_. Please, just, if I kiss you, maybe you’ll feel it. Maybe you’ll know it’s me.”

“I know it’s _you_ , Crowley,” Aziraphale huffed, “I just don’t know whether you’re, well, _full of shit_.”

“‘M always full of shit, ‘bout lots of things. But not about loving you, angel. Never about loving you.”

Aziraphale’s heart leapt at Crowley’s tender choice of words. Then he remembered it might not be true. He demanded, “How can I _know_ that? And _don’t_ suggest a kiss. This isn’t a _fairytale_ , Crowley. You’ve kissed me senseless every day for the past 19 days! If it was all part of an act…” Aziraphale winced at the thought of all those tender kisses, fingers softly carded through hair… all the desperate meetings of mouths and tongues, fists in coat lapels… All an act? He felt a sickness rising in his stomach as he looked to Crowley helplessly. _Please prove me wrong_ , he tried to say with his eyes. _Please make this right. I want so desperately to believe you, my dear. Please help me._

Crowley drew a deep breath and blew it out slowly, nodding to himself. “Right. Well, there’s... I don’t know how to prove it to you, angel. How could I prove it to you? I’ll do anything. What can I do to prove it to you?”

The angel’s voice came out just above a whisper, “You can’t, I’m afraid. I could always assume that you’d be willing to do anything to ‘prove’ yourself to me if you wanted to…,” he glanced down, “to toy with me longer.”

Crowley’s nostrils flared. “What about if I track down whoever impersonated me and kill ‘em?” The way he said it, it wasn’t a question. Crowley seemed intent to make sure this evil deed did not go unpunished.

“Pity I can’t take a look inside your mind,” Aziraphale mused. “See what you’re _really_ thinking.”

“I’m thinking I wanna kill whoever pretended to be me and hurt you,” Crowley said, rather absently.

After a few somber moments of silence, Aziraphale muttered a single word that made Crowley snap his head up. “What?”

“I said ‘possession’.”

“No, I heard that, but... What are you suggesting?”

Aziraphale shrugged hopelessly. “If I were to possess you, I could... I could access your thoughts. You’d be unable to hide any part of yourself from me.”

Crowley swallowed, wide-eyed. “Thought we agreed it could be dangerous. An angel inhabiting a demon.”

“Well, frankly I’d rather risk dying with you than to go one more moment wondering if anything between us was real.” He quirked a brow. “Unless of course you’d prefer _not_ to risk it... because you know I’ll discover the truth.”

Crowley frowned. “The truth?”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes.

“Oh, right. Right. Well, ’s’not a con, angel–”

“Then _prove_ it.”

Crowley seemed to consider his options for a moment, then gave a firm nod. “Right. Okay.” He snapped, freeing Aziraphale from his constraints. “Hop in, then. If we explode, we explode.”

Aziraphale stood and approached Crowley. “At least I’ll have been inside you, for however brief a moment,” he mused aloud.

“ _Christ_ , angel.”

“Best not bring him into this.” Aziraphale rolled his sleeves, eyeing the demon up and down with a determined frown. He gave a sigh, then, “I’ve never done this. Well, there was Madame Tracy, but the circumstances were a bit different. And she’s a human. You’re a demon. I’m not sure if it works the same way.”

Crowley shrugged. “Won’t know until we try.”

Aziraphale shot Crowley a glare that communicated just how unhelpful he’d been. “Right. Well, ‘buckle up’, I suppose.”

He wasn’t really sure how to go about possessing someone when he was standing right in front of them. He’d lucked out with Madame Tracy, as she’d opened herself up to it by hosting a seance. And he’d been jumping directly out of heaven and into a human body. Here, he would have to leave his own corporation and enter another’s. Corporations, whether angelic or demonic, weren’t _exactly_ the same as human bodies, but Aziraphale would just have to hope they were similar enough for his plan to work.

After taking a deep breath, he took a firm step closer to Crowley, and reached a shaky hand out to press against the demon’s forehead. Seemed the right thing to do, he thought. Then, with no small amount of intention, he thought about what it’d be like to cohabit the demon’s body. Something zapped him and he yanked his hand away from the demon’s forehead. “What in–”

“Sorry. Think that was me.”

Aziraphale huffed, straightening his waistcoat before bringing his hand back up towards Crowley’s face. “You have to _let me in_. What were you doing, pushing back?”

“It’s instinct!”

“Just,” Aziraphale sighed, “try again.” Fingertips met forehead once more as Aziraphale closed his eyes in concentration. And then, suddenly, he was looking out through foreign eyes, watching as his own corporation dropped to the ground. He felt himself wince and realized he hadn’t considered what would happen once he left his own body; would he be able to get back in? What if he was stuck in this body forever?

_Well, at least we’d be together._

Aziraphale swallowed, shivering under the words that came from the back of his mind. _Crowley’s_ mind. Right, he was on a mission. The truth. He needed to find the truth.

_Sorry, ’s a bit of a mess in here_ , Crowley said. Or, rather, thought. But Aziraphale heard him loud and clear.

_Just as long as I can find what I need to know_ , replied Aziraphale. He took a seat on the sofa and closed his eyes, focusing entirely on Crowley’s inner world.

_Love you, angel,_ said Crowley’s voice. _Love you, love you, love you._

_Hush,_ Aziraphale replied in his mind, _stop trying to cover up whatever else is in this mind of yours._

_Nothing else. ’S just you. Always been you._

_Oh, do shut_ up _, Crowley! I’m trying to focus. You’re really not helping your case, you know. I need to find subconscious thoughts; stop sending me intentional ones. You could easily be thinking untruths on purpose to mislead me._

_‘M not!_

_Hush!_

_Fine. Sorry._

_Honestly._

It felt like swimming, really. Wading through the thoughts of another. Trouble was, Aziraphale was looking for something specific. Looking for confirmation that he was either loved or despised by the demon. But he kept coming across streams of thought that said, _Hurry, hurry. I can’t wait much longer,_ or, _This is all too much,_ or–and Aziraphale found this one _particularly_ perplexing, _Why does he care, anyway?_

_What do you mean, ‘why do I care’?,_ he wondered in Crowley’s direction.

_Sorry?_

_You_ must _know why I care about finding out the truth!_

_Oh, s’not about that._

_Then what is–_

_Me, angel. Why d’you care about_ me _._

Stunned silence, and Aziraphale could swear he felt Crowley shrug within the confines of his mind.

_S’what I’ve wondered throughout the years. I mean, I_ know _you care, I’ve known for centuries, and I’m glad, angel, really I am, but... I just... I can’t figure why. ‘M not even sure_ you _could figure why. We don’t make sense, you and me. Makes sense that I’d love you, you’re… Well, you’re you. But me? I’m a mess, angel. Baggage city. Yet you’re still here, you still care. Just can’t figure why._

Aziraphale felt himself frown using Crowley’s face. _Why… I... cared for you?_

That did it. _Cared_. That past-tense, that tone. The indication that Aziraphale truly didn’t know what to believe, that he’d been so hurt and felt so betrayed, Crowley was effectively dead to him. That’s what unlocked the thoughts in the back of Crowley’s mind, thoughts he apparently had kept away even from himself. Suddenly, Aziraphale was flooded with more thoughts than he could register at once, sending him staggering back in the metaphorical waves of Crowley’s mind.

_Please don’t stop caring about me. Please don’t leave me. I never had hope until you, please don’t take it away from me now. I thought I’d lost you today._

Flashes of the memory of Aziraphale’s fake boiled corpse flickered in Crowley’s mind, and Aziraphale felt himself flinch. Oh, Crowley…

_I thought my life was over,_ Crowley’s unfiltered thoughts continued pouring in. _You’re my life. What’s life worth without you? Were we always meant to be together? Are we part of that plan you think is so ineffable? What’s the point of it all if it ends like this? Please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please don’t leave me, please–_

And then there was nothing. Aziraphale shivered, having just jolted himself right out of Crowley’s corporation and back into his own. He sat up, rubbing at the back of his head. It ached. What’s more, his right ankle seemed to have twisted upon the fall. May have even broken. Aziraphale didn’t give it much thought beyond the miracle he used to get his body back into working condition. He stood abruptly, then smoothed his hands over his layered torso. “Right,” he said, “well. That was sufficient.”

Crowley had had about five seconds to regather himself from having just been possessed before the angel’s mouth was on his own. 

“I’m so sorry, dear,” Aziraphale said softly between fervent kisses. “I should have believed you from the start.”

Crowley shook his head, his eyes watering as he said, “I understand, angel. They did a number on you.”

“Still, after what _you_ went through, to be confronted with…” Aziraphale let out a horrified gasp. “Oh, Crowley, I _hit_ you!”

The demon merely shrugged. “’S alright.”

“No, it’s _not_!” Aziraphale peeled himself away from the demon’s embrace, hardly registering the small whimper that left Crowley’s mouth in protest. “Are you hurt, dear?”

Crowley, his lonely mouth forming into a pout, replied, “‘M not that fragile, angel.”

“But your face! Oh, your cheek! It’s reddened! You poor-”

“Hush.” Crowley snapped himself better and his cheek returned to its usual color. Well, except for the blush that had graced his skin in response to the angel’s sudden display of affection. “‘M fine now. Can we get on?”

Aziraphale frowned. “With what?”

Crowley thinned his lips. 

“Ah. Would you... Would you like me to kiss you ag-”

“ _Yes_ , angel, for fuck’s sake!” Crowley didn't wait for a response before he fisted his hands in the lapels of Aziraphale’s coat and yanked him back against his mouth. Teeth met lips in a decidedly unsexy way, but he couldn’t be bothered to care.

Aziraphale cared. Aziraphale pulled back. “Crowley,” he said, tiredly, “I’ve had a most _distressing_ day. I feel the need for…” He gave a light sigh. “For some rest. And if we’re going to take this any farther, I’d prefer it not to be so soon after… well, all that’s happened.”

Crowley gave a solemn nod, his gaze distant. Then, he perked up. “Still too fast for you, huh?”

Aziraphale’s voice went flat. “Hardly.” He adjusted his bowtie and shook his head. “I would love nothing more than to utterly _devour_ you, dear, but–”

“You _what–_ ”

“–I really am exhausted.” He sighed once more. “I would prefer to be well rested before we make love.” Whether he didn’t hear the strange noise that came from Crowley’s throat or simply chose to ignore it, he continued, “I haven’t slept in centuries and I do believe the events of today have pushed me into being rather overdue for a nap.”

Crowley blinked, coming back to himself. “I didn’t know you slept at _all_.”

“Yes, well. After I heard _you_ did it, I thought I would give it a try.”

A smug grin overtook Crowley’s face. “Ah, tempted you into it, huh?” His face fell when Aziraphale grimaced. “Oh, angel… I’m sorry, I won’t– I won’t ever make jokes like that again.”

Aziraphale shook himself out of the trauma of the day and shot an apologetic look at Crowley. “It’s not your fault. You know, a few days ago I might have been aroused by the idea of you tempting me. I don’t think I can have that sort of response to that, now.”

Crowley nodded absently. Then, “Well, shall we, you know, rest?” He hurried to add, “Unless you didn’t want me to–”

“Oh, of _course_ I want you here, you idiot,” Aziraphale huffed, then relaxed his posture and gave a light chuckle. “Oh, I’m sorry, dear,” he said rather sheepishly. “Stress of the day, you know.” He gestured upwards with a smile. “A rather cozy bedroom has just miraculously formed upstairs.” He reached a hand out to Crowley. “Won’t you join me?”

Crowley beamed as he took Aziraphale’s hand in his own. “Always, angel. You know, I don’t think I’ll ever be leaving your side again.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement then walked the rest of the way in silence as he led the demon up to his bedroom. Once he reached his destination, he wasted no time in throwing himself on the bed, his grip on the demon’s hand pulling Crowley down after him. They collided with a huff and then a few giggles, then Aziraphale reached up to run the hand that wasn’t entwined with Crowley’s through thick red hair. He leaned up to place a chaste kiss on the demon’s lips, then settled back against the mattress. Crowley followed suit, coming to lie on his back right beside the angel, their hands still joined. “Mm, this is nice,” Aziraphale mused.

“Yes.”

“Bit bittersweet, after all the…”

Crowley gave a solemn, somewhat absent nod. “Yeah.”

Aziraphale turned his head to better face the demon. “But I’m still glad to have you so near to me, dear.”

Crowley gave a small smile. “Me, too, angel.” He turned to meet Aziraphale’s deep gaze, reaching up and running a hand through soft blonde curls.

Aziraphale’s face darkened. “You know, they’ll find out eventually that their plan didn’t work, if their plan was for us to kill ourselves, or each other, or… oh, _what_ ever.”

“Yeah, I realized that.”

“Well,” said the angel, reaching up to resume combing his fingers through Crowley’s hair, “we ought to, you know, prepare.”

Crowley tensed. “Oh, I’m prepared, angel. I’m prepared to kill them all.”

Aziraphale pat the top of Crowley’s head lovingly. “Yes, I’m sure you are, dear, but I don’t think that’s very realistic, is it?”

Crowley pouted by sinking further into the mattress, folding his arms over his chest as he grumbled, “I’ll find a way.”

“Mm. Well,” Aziraphale sighed, “I suppose we should try to sleep.” He nuzzled Crowley’s hair before pressing a kiss to his forehead. “I’m not worried about heaven or hell for the time being. They didn’t seem to suspect that we’d switched corporations, so they still think we can’t be killed.”

“But what about that thing they told me they’d done to you? What if they actually try something like that? Bit of holy water, bit of hellfire… it’d kill us both if they actually did it!”

Aziraphale considered for a moment. Then, “Perhaps we should fake our own deaths. Relocate to a small, quiet town. Get a cottage, perhaps. We could go by different names. Even change our appearances…”

“I don’t wanna be in hiding again, angel,” Crowley whined.

“Believe me, my dear, I don’t either.” Aziraphale ran a finger down Crowley’s cheek and over his jaw. “And perhaps we won’t have to.” He ran his thumb back and forth over the demon’s lower lip in a soothing motion. “Best sleep on it, dear. Right now, I just want to rest with you. We can seek answers later.”

Crowley quirked a brow. “That’s not the worrying angel I know.”

“Well, I believe that angel may have died when the apocalypse was averted and he realized he could have everything he ever wanted.”

“And you’re not afraid of… losing it all?”

“Darling, I never thought I could have it in the first place,” Aziraphale said, his smile overshadowed by sad eyes. “Now that I have it… Now that I have _you–really_ have you, my dear… I don’t want to be afraid anymore. I’ve just had a taste of what it would have been like to never have had your love, Crowley, and it was unbearable. All I can feel right now is… is unspeakable gratefulness that I have you at all. I just want to enjoy our time together and not worry about how long we have.”

“Easy for you to say. You weren’t looking down at a boiled corpse an hour ago. Whatever happens to me, angel, I can’t let _that_ happen to _you_.”

“And I don’t believe it will,” Aziraphale said gently. “Certainly not in the next few hours.”

“Can you promise me that? Can you _guarantee_ it?”

“Crowley…”

“‘M not sleepin’, angel.” Crowley leaned in for a kiss, then wrapped his arms around Aziraphale and pulled him close. “You get your rest. I’m keeping watch.”

Aziraphale sighed. “As you wish, dear.”

It didn’t take long for the angel to drift off. Once he closed his eyes, the stress of the day knocked him out in ten seconds flat. Crowley, true to his word, kept his arms protectively firm around his angel, and watched the room like a hawk. “Mine,” he hissed to nobody in particular. “He’s mine, and no one else’s, and you _can’t_ have him, ‘cause I’ll kill you.”

He wasn’t sure who he was hissing at. Hell? Heaven? God Herself? He didn’t care. It applied to anyone who would even _think_ to take Aziraphale away from him. 

When the angel nuzzled into his shoulder and blinked into consciousness hours later, Crowley smiled down at him, and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “Sleep well?”

“Mm, yes.” Aziraphale stretched against the demon’s side, then sat up a bit and yawned, which was just about the most endearing sight Crowley had ever been so lucky to see. The angel ran a lazy hand down Crowley’s arm, then trailed it across his chest. “Now,” he said through another yawn, “about that aforementioned lovemaking…”

“Don’t call it lovemaking, for fuck’s sake, angel. And we’re not in the clear yet, you know. If heaven or hell are gonna come back to see how we fared after their mindfuckery, I don’t know about you but I don’t wanna be caught with my pants down.”

“Too late.”

Gabriel’s voice pierced through the presupposed safety of the room, startling Aziraphale out of Crowley’s arms while startling Crowley into yanking the angel closer.

“So, you’re actually a _bit_ more clever than we thought.” Gabriel waved a hand with a deceptively bright smile. “Doesn’t matter. We have a gift.”

Beelzebub stepped out from behind the archangel with a pot in their hands and a _very_ concentrated expression. The pot had a lid on it, but it was clear to everyone in the room that the contents were boiling.

Crowley reflexively tightened his grip on Aziraphale and all but _hissed_ at the intruders. “I’m warning you.”

“You’ll what?” Gabriel asked. “Cry about it?” He shot a smug look toward Aziraphale. “Do you have any idea how pathetic and _useless_ this demon was when we showed him that corpse? Left a puddle of tears up there.” He grinned unkindly at Crowley. “You’ll do _nothing_. This twisted, _sick_ romance of yours makes you vulnerable.”

“I’ll not have you speak to him that way!” Aziraphale bolstered himself, yanking himself out of Crowley’s arms in favor of getting between his love and the archangel. “Whatever you’ve come to do, do it. You are right, we are defenseless.” He gulped. “B-But I ask you this: in working with the Prince of Hell, are you not _yourself_ crossing a certain line?”

Gabriel looked wholly incredulous. “What are you _implying_?”

Aziraphale nodded several times, moreso to bolster his courage than to portray confidence to anyone else. “You see, you think yourself such a purist, but you’re working with your sworn enemy. To carry out _revenge_ , no less. Getting back at us for ruining your war. That’s hardly a heavenly duty.”

“Vengeance is _mine_ , saith the Lord.”

Crowley snorted despite himself. “Yeah? Who died and made you God?”

Gabriel’s glare inspired a shit-eating grin out of Crowley, who threw an arm over Aziraphale’s shoulder. “Oh, laugh all you want,” the archangel glowered, “but you won’t be laughing when your boyfriend’s been reduced to–”

“Oh, get on with it!” Beelzebub stepped forward with the boiling holy water. “I’m not holding this any longer.”

Gabriel snapped his mouth shut, looking to Beelzebub with a forced smile, then back to the angel and demon sat at the edge of the bed. “Fine. You do the honors.”

Crowley looked to Aziraphale, eyes wide and already flooding with tears. He grasped for his hand and squeezed it like his life depended on it. Aziraphale sent a desperate glance his way, and then the words, “I love you, Crowley. Remember that.”

Without another word, and before Crowley could think to tighten his grip on the angel’s hand, Aziraphale launched himself off the bed and at Beelzebub, who stumbled back with the pot. The lid flew off and the water sloshed over the sides, sizzling when it made contact with Beelzebub’s hands, eliciting a howl from the demon. Aziraphale put his right hand under the pot and pushed up with full force while his other hand fisted in the Prince of Hell’s jacket so that they couldn’t escape what came next. The water splashed Beelzebub in the face, who gave a pained shout, and then there was a puddle on the floor that wasn’t just boiled holy water.

Aziraphale caught the pot before it fell to the floor and moved to dump the remaining contents on Gabriel, but the archangel was one step ahead of him and grabbed Aziraphale by his coat and turned the pot over in his hands, drenching the angel’s chest.

Aziraphale screamed in agony. His chest _burned_. It felt like something was eating its way through his flesh, layer by layer, and he doubled over and clawed at his own scalp to brace himself through the pain. He was only vaguely aware of the sound of Crowley shouting for him, of the sudden feeling of panicked hands at his face.

“Please, no, angel, _please_.”

And then nothing happened. Oh, Aziraphale was in _massive_ amounts of pain, to be sure, but he just… kept living. Which seemed to perplex Gabriel, who’d gotten a bit of that water on his hand in all the chaos and had nearly collapsed from the apparent _supernatural_ levels of pain.

Aziraphale, though… Aziraphale was just… scalded.

“No,” Gabriel said, his voice small. He dropped the pot, which hit the floor with a clang, and stumbled backward. “No, that’s not possible. No. You can’t– No! That’s _not_ possible! This is the most destructive substance in existence. We _engineered_ it to kill you! Why won’t you _die?!_ ”

Aziraphale, the bastard, chuckled despite his pain, and lifted his head just enough to meet Gabriel’s wide-eyed stare. “It would seem,” he managed to say, “I’m rather indestructible.”

Crowley caught his breath and, after giving a small laugh of relief, rose to his feet, his hand coming to rest in Aziraphale’s hair. “I think you should leave, Gabriel. I’ve got to tend to my angel’s _temporary_ wounds.” He took a few steps forward, until he was snarling in a clearly terrified Gabriel’s face. “And, see, now that we know what that stuff does to _you_ lot, we might just start making some for ourselves. Keep it on hand, in case we get any unwelcome visitors. What do you say, angel?” he asked Aziraphale, not taking his eyes off the trembling archangel in front of him.

“Yes,” Aziraphale said through shaky breaths, “kindly _fuck off_ , Gabriel.”

In a flash, Gabriel was gone. Crowley breathed a sigh of relief and rushed back to Aziraphale, crouching in front of him and seeking his gaze.

“What do you need, angel, how can I help you?”

“I think,” Aziraphale hissed, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor, “I think we need to assess the damage first.” He snapped his torso bare, sucking in a breath when he looked down to see the layers of skin that had been eaten clean through by the substance that’d been designed to kill him. Well, it could have been worse…

“Aziraphale…” Tears welled in the demon’s eyes for the umpteenth time that day.

“It’s alright,” the angel said, shooting Crowley a reassuring smile. “It will heal, my dear.” He brought a shaky hand to his chest and hovered it over the damaged skin, then dropped it to his lap with a frown. “It doesn’t seem that _I_ can heal it, though. Bit drained, I think. Hardly had it in me to remove my clothes.”

Crowley scrambled to sit mirroring Aziraphale, then reached a tentative hand out. “Maybe I can…?”

“You’re most welcome to try, my dear.”

Crowley gave a solemn nod, and brought his hand to the angel’s chest, stopping just shy of the scalded flesh. He sucked in a breath, then put all his focus into restoring that tender, angry red skin to its rightful softness. That skin he’d hardly a chance to touch, the skin he wanted nothing more than to wrap himself around and breathe in deep and press sloppy, reverent kisses to and trace worshipping fingers over and… _Oh, good._ Crowley watched as layers of fresh, healthy, glowing skin rose up from behind the wound until it was no longer detectable. Thank _someone_.

“Oh,” Aziraphale heaved a deep sigh of relief. “ _Thank you,_ Crowley.” He reached up and caught the healing hand of the demon in front of him. “You take such care of me.” He brought the demon’s knuckles to his lips and pressed sweet kisses to each one. “Thank you.”

With Aziraphale back to his usual health and no more discernible disasters to deal with, Crowley let himself break down. He threw himself into the angel’s arms and clutched at his back, sobbing into the crook of his neck.

“Oh, Crowley.” Aziraphale brought a hand up to the demon’s hair and ran his fingers through it, dragging them soothingly across his scalp. He used his other hand to stroke Crowley’s back. “It’s alright, dear. It’s over.”

Crowley laughed through his tears. “Better be.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, then turned his head to kiss the back of the demon’s neck. “I quite think it is.”

Crowley pulled back, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “‘M sorry I’m such a wreck,” he sniffled and offered Aziraphale an apologetic smile.

The angel returned the smile in kind. “I think it’s understandable given the circumstances of, well, the entire day.”

“How did you know that stuff wouldn’t kill you?”

Aziraphale held Crowley’s curious gaze with his own solemn stare until the demon widened his eyes and visibly tensed.

“You idiot! You didn’t know! You could have _died!_ ”

“That’s why I said ‘I love you’, Crowley. I thought it might be the last time.”

Crowley’s chest heaved as he raised his voice, “Well don’t _ever_ do that again!”

“I rather thought you would _want_ me to tell you I love you.” Aziraphale wore a bastardly grin, but his eyes were soft, searching for acceptance in yellow ones.

Crowley softened. “You know what I meant, angel. You… I almost lost you.”

Aziraphale reached for Crowley’s face with both hands and ran his thumbs over tear-stained cheeks. “But you didn’t. You have me. You will _always_ have me, my dear.”

“Promise me. Promise you’ll never do anything like that again.”

“I don’t think I’ll be _needing_ to–”

“ _Angel_.”

Aziraphale heaved a sigh, continuing to stroke the sides of Crowley’s face. “I cannot and _will_ not promise not to put myself in harm’s way for you, Crowley. I would– I _will_ do _anything_ to protect you.” He shifted where he sat, pulling Crowley’s head to his bare chest, the freshly healed skin welcoming the softness of the demon’s hair. “However, as I said, I _really_ don’t think such an occasion will come up any time soon, if ever again. You saw Gabriel! He’s out of ideas, Crowley. And we know how to kill him, if need be. We really should brew our own hellish holy water. I wonder if it holds the same power once it’s cooled down. Then we won’t have to worry about scald–”

“I didn’t do anything.” The voice was small and muffled by Aziraphale’s chest.

“I’m sorry?” Aziraphale pushed Crowley just far enough away from his chest that he could look into those sad yellow eyes. “Crowley?”

“Gabriel was right. I was pathetic. Useless. Too vulnerable to… I should’ve been the one protecting _you_ , angel, not the other way around.”

Aziraphale huffed. “My dear fellow, I think I’ve the right to be protective of my love if I so choose.”

“But I should’ve… I should’ve…”

“Darling, if you’d done it instead of me, you’d have been in pain. I’d rather endure the pain myself than see you in such a state.”

“You think I wasn’t in pain seeing _you_ in pain?”

“Well, now, Crowley, you know what I–”

“And it should’ve been me, _anyway_. You don’t deserve that kind of suffering.”

Aziraphale blinked. “And you do?”

Crowley remained silent, holding the angel’s gaze but not really present with it. “I didn’t do anything. I was scared. You’ve always been so much braver than me, angel.”

“I… I’m sorry, _what_?”

Crowley shrugged, sniffed, and moved to lean back against the foot of the bed, his legs flat out in front of him on the floor. “You have.”

“I was in the metaphorical closet for six thousand years, Crowley!”

“Yeah, so was I! And then when shit hit the fan, my instinct was to run. Every time. Run away. Fuck off to another country, another _planet_. I was… I was _scared_. The entire time. But you?” Crowley spat out a laugh that was something between fond and bitter. “You faced heaven and hell and told them _both_ to fuck off. I was ready to give up. I was ready to run away, like I always do. _You_ stuck it out. You saw the whole stopping armageddon thing to the end, angel. I just stuck to your side like a useless… I don’t know, whatever’s got no use to it.”

“Crowley,” Aziraphale started hesitantly. He bit his lip, then shifted beside Crowley, reaching out to lift his chin. The demon brushed his hand away. With a determined huff, Aziraphale maneuvered himself until he was resting his head in Crowley’s lap, looking up at the somber demon. “Hello. Yes. Will you be a dear and listen to me now?”

Crowley snorted, still avoiding the angel’s gaze but making no moves to shove him off of his lap. “Fine.”

“Thank you. You’re not _useless_ , you idiot. Without you stopping time like you did and giving us the chance to talk to Adam, who knows what might have happened? And Crowley, you drove through _fire_ to get to me. You– Honestly, how can you not call yourself brave? You pretended to be me and let yourself be abducted to heaven! Just imagine what might have happened if you’d been found out! And you say you’re not brave? You absolute _ridiculous_ demon!” Aziraphale’s exasperated tone began to be eclipsed by his fondness. “Why, simply _being_ a demon so loving, so caring, so _good_ … Crowley, just being _yourself_ is an act of bravery in a world that doesn’t accept you. How could you ever doubt yourself, you– you– you _beautiful_ thing?”

Crowley dared to meet Aziraphale’s gaze and the love that hit him when he did nearly sent him into another plane of existence. The angel had tears in his eyes and looked up at him with such desperation, such a pleading expression to _Give yourself a break, my dear_ , Crowley had to look away.

“‘Useless’,” Aziraphale huffed, reaching up to wrap an arm around Crowley’s neck. “How dare anyone call the love of _my_ life, ‘useless’. Are you trying to pick a fight with me, dear?”

Crowley sniffed. “No,” he brought himself to say. “Not trying to fight, angel.”

“Then you admit you were wrong.”

Crowley nodded.

“Tell me.”

“‘M not… ‘M not useless.”

Aziraphale smiled. “No, you’re not. And?”

Crowley’s brows furrowed. “And?”

“What are you, then?”

“I’m… cynical.”

Ah, so they weren’t finished, then. Aziraphale sighed and threw his other arm around his love’s neck. “You’re thoughtful,” he countered, brushing his thumb against the tattoo on the side of Crowley’s face.

“I’m sensitive. _Too_ sensitive.”

“You have feelings.”

“Overdramatic.”

“Delightfully so.”

“I’m stubborn.”

Aziraphale huffed. “Clearly. _However_ , so am I.” He beamed. “And I can keep this up for hours.”

Crowley groaned, throwing his head back against the foot of the bed. “You’re impossible.”

“Quite.”

“ _Ridiculous_.”

Aziraphale beamed. “You love me for it.”

Crowley couldn’t help but return the smile. “I do,” he chuckled.

“I know, dear.” Aziraphale lifted his head and urged Crowley closer until their lips met. “I love you, too.”

Crowley smiled. Then, after raking his eyes over the angel’s bare torso, “I believe you said something about lovemaking earlier?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THEN THEY FUCKED! (As we'll see in the next chapter.)
> 
> I'm about halfway through writing chapter 2 but idk when it'll be finished. I just spent literally all day yesterday writing and I need a Break™ lol hALP.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is almost entirely sex with a bit of fluff and a demon doting on his angel.  
> Content Notice for specific sex stuffs available in the end notes.

“I thought you didn’t want to call it ‘lovemaking’,” said Aziraphale, his head still resting comfortably in Crowley’s lap.

“Mm, but ‘fucking’ isn’t quite as romantic, is it?”

Aziraphale huffed a laugh and gave an eyeroll that looked far more fond than should have been possible for such an expression. “I see what you mean. Although,” his eyes twinkled, “it might be more _fun_.”

“Fuck, angel.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Aziraphale heaved himself off of Crowley’s lap and onto his feet. “Oh,” he winced. “Perhaps we should, ah,” Aziraphale gestured broadly at the floor, “clean up first.”

As he stood, Crowley grimaced at the puddle of holy water from hell and what it’d reduced Beelzebub to. “That had to have hurt.”

“I almost feel bad, really.”

“I don’t,” Crowley said plainly.

Aziraphale considered a moment, then snapped the floor clean. “Right. I don’t, either. Now,” he said, turning to Crowley, “where were we?”

Crowley grinned and shoved Aziraphale back on the bed. “Stress relief?”

Aziraphale hit the mattress and bounced a few times, his lower legs still hanging over the edge. “Been quite the day, hasn’t it?”

“Understatement of the century, angel,” Crowley said as he removed his jacket, tossing it carelessly on the floor. He went to work on the next layer when his hands met bare skin. He looked up at a smirking Aziraphale. “Did you… Did you just _miracle_ me naked?”

A bastardly grin crept onto Aziraphale’s face. “Yes, well… You were taking too long.”

“Impatient, insufferable, ridiculous,” Crowley chided through the fondest smile known to man (and angel, and demon, and God Herself). He pointed accusingly at the shirtless angel. “Still far too clothed, you.”

Aziraphale’s smugness faltered. “Oh, right. Well. Erm, before we, ah, reveal the rest of me,” he blushed, “I–I must warn you, I haven’t been… Well, that is I don’t h–”

“Angel, if you’d been walking around with a cock in your trousers this entire time, I’d have known about it, _believe_ _me_. It’s okay.”

Aziraphale cocked a brow, a smirk rising on his face once again. “Oh, you were _looking_ , were you?”

Crowley flushed red. “Shut up.”

With a shaky breath, Aziraphale snapped himself out of the rest of his clothes, and let his legs fall open to the demon’s view.

Crowley stilled. Between Aziraphale’s legs, where the demon had expected the smooth sexlessness of a Ken doll, were soft, pink folds, much like the demon’s own, and a bit higher, just below a modest patch of blonde hair, a delightfully large clit (Crowley might have been just a _bit_ jealous). “Thought you said you didn’t…”

Aziraphale rolled his eyes. “Well I never said I didn’t have _anything_.”

Crowley sputtered, “Y-Yeah, but. I… How long have you… I mean, I–”

Aziraphale’s face fell. “Do you not… I mean, is that not your preference?”

“No, no! I’m– No! I’m happy with whatever you want, really, I just want _you_ , angel. I just didn’t _expect_ you to have anything, you know, because, ah, angels and purity and–”

“My dear, I hate to disappoint you, but I am _far_ from virginal.”

Crowley blinked. “What.”

“Oh, I may not have engaged in such things with another person,” Aziraphale explained, “but I’ve become _quite_ familiar with, ah, pleasing my corporation.”

Crowley seemed to have left his body, his gaze unfocused in the general direction of Aziraphale’s groin.

“You’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” Aziraphale’s voice was low and sultry. “About how I’ve touched myself, about whether or not I ever thought of you.” A pause. “I did, you know. Quite often. Nearly every time.”

That snapped Crowley out of his daydreams. After stifling a groan, he blew out a long breath, then cocked his head and frowned. “You’re wet.”

Aziraphale flushed, crossing his legs in some pointless attempt at modesty, as though he hadn’t just admitted to masturbating to thoughts of the demon. “ _Crowley_.”

“You’re really, really wet.” Crowley looked back up to Aziraphale’s face with a sudden grin. “That for me, angel?”

Aziraphale huffed. “You know _quite well_ that it is.”

Crowley’s voice was dripping with amusement as he said, “Are you gonna be as bratty in bed as you are out of it?”

“Quite possibly, if you don’t come over here and _do_ _something_ about it.”

Crowley beamed and threw himself onto the bed, rolling onto the angel’s body and heaving a deeply contented sigh at the sudden sensation of being flush against Aziraphale. _Finally_. He went straight for the angel’s mouth, capturing it in a hungry kiss, before Aziraphale moved his head to the side not five seconds later.

“It’s just…”

Crowley groaned. “ _What_?”

“Well, that… That demon–the one who was impersonating you, whoever they _really_ were…”

Crowley tensed, his hands instinctively sliding down the angel’s sides in a comforting motion. “Go on, angel,” he said, his voice tight but as gentle as he could manage.

“Well, he said that my… that my corporation was plain.”

After sucking in a slow, purposeful breath, Crowley said through gritted teeth, “Thank you for telling me, I’ll add that to my list of reasons to track him down and _kill_ him.”

“And Gabriel,” Aziraphale continued, his face maintaining a troubled pout, “well, he poked at me once. Told me to ‘lose my gut’.”

Crowley hissed, clenching his fists in Aziraphale’s sides. He let go as soon as he caught himself and resumed dragging his hands soothingly over the skin. “And _that’s_ going on my ever-growing list of reasons to kill _him_.”

Aziraphale offered an understanding smile. “Well, yes, alright–and for what it’s worth, I never did feel negatively about my shape–just rather indifferent, I suppose, but… As for, well, just a sort of general _plainness_ , well, I–”

“It’s not true, angel, if that’s what you’re getting at.”

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth a few times before saying, “Are you quite sure? I’ve hardly kept up with, ah, societal standards of beauty, you know.”

Crowley snorted. “Good. Those are just trends, angel. They come and go. They don’t mean anything.”

“They seem to mean something to you. You always seem to be on top of the latest ‘trends’.”

Crowley blew out a puff of air and sat up, straddling the angel’s lap. “Alright, well, _first of all_ I don’t follow trends, I set them.” He ignored Aziraphale’s somewhat condescending little “oh” mouth. “Second, those are _fashion_ trends that I’m playing with, angel. Wardrobe. Not… Not the entire corporation. I’ve never changed my body.” He cocked his head to the side in a surrendered sort of nod. “I mean, yeah, okay, I’ve switched things up for gender presentation a bit, but that’s different. And lastly, who cares? It’s just for fun, angel. It’s self-expression. If you really want to play with your appearance, do it! But don’t do it to… I don’t know, change with the times, Aziraphale.” He poked a gentle finger in the center of the angel’s chest. “And don’t do it for _me_ , either. Do it for you.”

Aziraphale was silent for a moment, then, “You don’t mind that I’ve worn the same thing for–”

Crowley cut him off with a groan, throwing his head back before returning his gaze to the angel’s. “What did I just say? It doesn’t matter what I think, angel, it only matters what you think.”

The angel thinned his lips. “Well I _happen_ to want to _please_ you, you idiot!”

“You being _happy_ pleases me!”

“And I’ll be _happy_ if I know you like what you see when you look at me!”

Crowley growled. “Oh, that’s _it_. Now you’ve gone and done it. Now you’ve gone and provoked me. Listen, angel, you are the most _beautiful_ thing in this entire damn universe. I’ve been lusting after you and your blasted _corporation_ for millennia! Are you _happy_ now? Do you have it through your thick, _stupid_ head? I _like_ you.”

Aziraphale swallowed thickly, but pressed the demon further. “Name five things,” he challenged. “ _Five_ things about my corporation that you supposedly like so much.”

Crowley held Aziraphale’s gaze as he started listing things off like this was a test he’d studied for weeks ahead of time. “Your smile, and the way your eyes crinkle with each one. Your eyes! They hold universes in them. I get lost in there, you know. You don’t even realize it because I try only to stare at you like that from behind the privacy of my glasses, but, _fuck_ , angel, I could drown in your eyes and I would _thank_ you for it. And it’s not just your irises! It’s the skin surrounding your eyes–the bit that’s just under them, you know, the way it sort of… I don’t know, _pudges_ and makes your eyes look bigger than they actually are. Your entire blasted _face_!” He reached a hand down, then, and cupped the left side of Aziraphale’s face. “Your cheeks, so soft, _begging_ to be kissed.” And so he did. “Your chin– _Satan_ , I just wanna nibble on it.” He elected to press a kiss to the angel’s other cheek instead. “Your hair. I’ve always been a bit jealous of those feathery curls. And–”

“ _My_ hair? _You’re_ the–”

Crowley slid his hand down the angel’s cheek to cover his mouth. “Shut up, I’m not finished. Yes, _your_ hair. It’s soft, and the color suits you so well.” He propped himself up by his elbow so he could raise his other hand to card his fingers through Aziraphale’s mussed up curls. “Your thighs, _fuck me_ , I love your thighs–and mind you I didn’t even get to see them _bare_ before today.” Crowley seemed to lose his focus as he glanced down at the delightfully thick bare thighs below him.

“Th-that’s a bit more than five, my dear,” Aziraphale mumbled against the demon’s hand. “You can stop.”

Crowley snapped his gaze back up to the angel’s. Aziraphale was flushed pink, and seemed to be breathing quite heavily. “Not likely. I didn’t even get around to mentioning your mouth yet. Those damn lips.” He traced his finger over the bottom lip, licking his own as he did. “You know how to pout them _just so_ , keeping me wrapped around your little finger, you bastard,” he said, his voice like honey. “And that tongue. I love watching it dart out to lick stray bits of whatever the hell you’re eating. Makes me jealous of anything you’ve ever tasted that wasn’t me.”

“Crowley…”

Crowley’s hand trailed down onto Aziraphale’s chest. He scooted back until he was leaning over the angel, his fingers dancing on the flesh just above his hips. “And now that I’ve seen a bit more of you…”

A shy smile crept onto Aziraphale’s face.

“ _This_ is a lot of fun,” Crowley continued, dragging his fingers down until they grazed lightly over the angel’s vulva, still wet and begging for attention. “Would you like to get back to this, angel?”

Aziraphale shuddered beneath the demon’s touch, responding with a mere whimper.

“Mm. Thought you might.” Crowley began rubbing two fingers along Aziraphale’s labia, just lightly enough to make the angel whine. With a satisfied smirk, he parted the folds and ran his fingers over the slickness there. When they were decently coated in the angel’s wetness, Crowley brought his fingers up to Aziraphale’s clit and circled it slowly, eliciting a heavy groan from the angel. “Feeling better?” he asked, his voice soft and low and unmistakably aroused.

“Mmmm.” Aziraphale’s eyes fluttered closed.

“Mind if I have a taste?”

Aziraphale’s eyes shot open. “I– Are you sure?”

Crowley rolled his eyes and moved further down Aziraphale’s legs until he was sat between his knees at the edge of the bed. He ran firm hands up and down the angel’s thighs. “Do I seem uncertain?” When Aziraphale merely shook his head slowly, Crowley asked, “Are _you_ sure?” He trailed a hand back up to Aziraphale’s sopping cunt and rubbed his middle finger around the hood of the clit. “Do you want my mouth here?”

“Ohhh, _fuck_ , yes!”

Crowley grinned, then wasted no time in settling his face between the angel’s thighs. He was just about to dart his tongue out for a taste, when–

“It’s just…”

The demon froze, mouth hovering over that beautiful pink clit. “Yes?” he breathed.

Aziraphale shuddered, but asked nonetheless, “Darling, am I boring?”

Crowley groaned, dropping his head to Aziraphale’s thigh. “For _fuck’s_ sake, Aziraphale, who do I have to kill _now_?”

“That same demon,” Aziraphale said, as though he hadn’t been just about to be eaten out. “He said I wasn’t interesting,” he pouted.

“Well _he’s_ not interesting,” Crowley muttered. “Especially compared to what I was about to do to you.”

Aziraphale offered an apologetic smile. “Yes, well, all the same, would you answer the question?”

Resolving to boost his angel’s confidence, Crowley sighed and shook his head. He pushed himself up so he could make proper eye contact with the troubled angel. “I love how passionate you get about things. Books, food… even magic–” Aziraphale’s quirked brow encouraged the demon to hastily add, “but _don’t_ think that means I approve of that humiliating nonsense!” He smiled despite himself, still brimming with love from the last time he listed off his favorite things about the angel. Oh, he could get used to this, this doting on Aziraphale. If ever an angel deserved to be doted on…

“You get tetchy when you’re stressed,” Crowley continued, “and it’s precious as anything. You can be a right _bastard_ when you want to be, and I can’t decide if that’s infuriatingly arousing or just infuriating. Either way, only makes me fonder. You’re really, truly, _actually_ good–not just some self-righteous angel following orders. You think for yourself. You do the right thing.” When Aziraphale opened his mouth, Crowley held up a finger. “We’re not debating this. You _try_ to do the right thing. You _care_ about doing the right thing. You care about _them_ ,” he said, nodding at the world beyond the walls. “The way you gesture and fuss with your hands is just about the most endearing thing I’ve ever seen. You’re…” Oh, he hated to have to say it, but what other word was there? “You’re _cute_ , angel.”

A scoff. “I am a millennia-old angel, I am most certainly _not_ ‘cute’,” Aziraphale pouted (which, Crowley noted with a fond smile, was most _definitely_ cute).

“No, you are. _Damned_ cute. Makes my heart go all… fluffy. I don’t know. It’s almost annoying, really.”

“…Well I think we both know you don’t mean _that_.”

Crowley grinned. “Alright, fine, it’s not annoying. It’s the best damn thing that’s ever happened to me. It keeps me going. D’you get it? You’re not boring, you’re _certainly_ not plain; you’re the most important thing in the universe to me and I will tell you as many times as you need me to tell you. And if _that_ doesn’t work,” he dipped his head just enough to ghost his hot breath over Aziraphale’s clit, “I’ll just have to _show_ you.”

Aziraphale groaned. “Mmmfuck, yes, please, _show me_ , Crowley.”

Crowley chuckled. “Such a demanding thing.” Then, he was finally tonguing at Aziraphale’s pretty pink clit, and moaned against it. Aziraphale’s hands found their way into his hair, and yanked it just hard enough to elicit another moan from the demon. Crowley retreated his tongue into his mouth just long enough to say, “I think I’ll have to add your taste to my list of things I love about you, angel.” He flicked his tongue out again, this time lapping at the lower part of the angel’s vulva, taking some of the wetness into his mouth. “Mmm,” he moaned. “So good.”

Aziraphale could do nothing more than whine and arch up into the warmth of Crowley’s mouth. The demon continued happily lapping at the plush pink lips of the angel’s vulva, kissing and sucking the soft skin until Aziraphale yanked so roughly on his hair that he had to pull back and send the angel a lazy grin. “Too much for you?”

The angel thrashed his head from side to side, swallowing hard, his chest rising and falling several times per second. “It’s only that I, I-”

A cocked brow, followed by a gentle kiss to Aziraphale’s clit. “Yes?” Crowley asked through a smirk.

“Mmmph, I-”

“Spit it out, angel,” said Crowley, his voice far more patient and collected than he felt. He needed that cunt in his mouth again… “What do you need?”

“I…” Aziraphale reached dumbly for Crowley’s shoulders. “I want you… Crowley, I want to taste you, too.”

It was Crowley’s turn to be reduced to moans, to gulp, to chew his bottom lip like a blushing virgin. “A-Are you sure?”

Aziraphale sent him a glare. “Do I seem uncertain?”

Crowley merely shook his head, only acutely aware that he’d been on the other side of that question just moments ago.

“Perhaps if we…” Aziraphale sat up and pulled Crowley further onto the bed. “Just, turn around,” he said, then maneuvered the demon himself until Crowley was resting on top of the angel with his thighs straddling Aziraphale’s face. Crowley’s own face was hovering over Aziraphale’s cunt, and he got the idea rather quickly. He began lapping at the throbbing clit, whimpering when Aziraphale suddenly did the same to him. The angel grasped Crowley’s thighs and urged him harder against his tongue. “Mmmmph,” he moaned against Crowley’s clit, “much better.”

“Fffuck.”

Aziraphale placed a hand on either side of the demon and pulled him harder against his mouth, delving his tongue between glistening folds without a moment’s notice. Crowley croaked out a curse and sucked in a sharp breath, which felt _delightful_ against Aziraphale’s clit, thankyouverymuch. He pressed his tongue up into the demon’s cunt and started fucking him with it. He couldn’t get very deep, but it seemed to satisfy Crowley, who yelped and dug his nails into soft thighs.

“A-Ah– _Aziraphale_!” Crowley whimpered, but returned to his task in seconds. Not one to be outdone, he forked his tongue and began running it over Aziraphale’s throbbing clit with lightning speed.

This elicited a startled cry from Aziraphale, who pressed his fingers so deeply into Crowley’s sides he was sure there’d be bruises. Neither of them seemed to care. If anything, Aziraphale became _more_ possessive in his oral claiming of the demon, and Crowley groaned in approval. They were both so close, in every sense of the word, and Aziraphale wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold on.

The angel was met with no shortage of protesting whimpers when he abruptly removed his tongue from Crowley’s cunt and pushed the demon off of him as though he might shatter. “I’m sorry, my dear,” he said, breathless, “you taste delightful, you do, but I really would like to look into your eyes as you come.” He sat up, then patted the space between his legs with a soft smile. “Won’t you come sit here and face me? I’d like to touch you until you reach that blissful climax. Rub that beautiful little clit of yours until you’re shaking in my arms. Would you like that, Crowley? Would you let me look into those _lovely_ yellow eyes as I bring you to orgasm?”

Crowley nodded and did as he was asked (as though he could do much else). He sat with his legs stretched out on either side of the angel, the backs of his knees finding warmth on the tops of Aziraphale’s thighs. As if suddenly remembering that he’d been the one who’d started all of this, who’d had Aziraphale a moaning mess on the bed just minutes ago, he decided to try to get the upper hand again. Quite literally. Before Aziraphale could reach for him, Crowley had his fingers on the angel’s cunt and was sinking the longest of them through the folds and into the source of that sweet wetness. His fingertip slipped into the angel’s slick hole with ease, and Aziraphale groaned at the sensation. Crowley smirked, regaining his composure as he began to wiggle his finger further into that cunt.

In response, Aziraphale put his ring, middle, and index fingers in his mouth and, after coating them in saliva (and giving Crowley plenty of fuel for future fantasy at the sight of him sucking so eagerly), brought them down to the demon’s clit and rubbed as roughly and quickly as he could manage.

Well, so much for composure. Crowley jolted against those spit-slick fingers and dropped his head to the angel’s shoulder.

“Ah, ah.” Aziraphale, the bastard, elected to bring his wet fingers up to lift Crowley’s chin, rather than the clean hand that rested on the demon’s lower back. “I want to _see_ you, remember, dear? Do try to keep your head up, please.”

Crowley whimpered, the scent of his own slick on Aziraphale’s fingers sending him into a frenzy. He nodded quickly as he pressed another finger between the angel’s labia and up into his cunt. He thumbed Aziraphale’s clit as he pumped his fingers inside of him, and reveled in the string of moans and _curses_ it elicited from the angel.

“Mmm, oh, Crowley, _fuck_ , yes– _Fuck!_ Just like that, please, yes–Oh _hell_ , that’s–Oh, oh, oh, _yes_!” He punctuated each exclamation with a brief rubbing of his fingertips across the demon’s clit. Seconds later he lost the ability to speak or rub consistently and ended up tapping his hand unceremoniously against Crowley’s cunt while letting out a series of grunts and whimpers that blended crudely with the sound of that soft wet skin being slapped.

“Ohhh, _fuck_ , angel,” said the demon, his voice in his throat. He watched Aziraphale with wide eyes, because _holy hell,_ how had he managed to obtain such a gift? What did he do to deserve to be made witness to–to be an _active_ _participant_ in–such a lovely scene? He realized, with an airy laugh that bubbled up from his chest, that Aziraphale–the angel who’d been so keen on watching him come undone–had screwed his eyes shut in ecstasy. “Hey,” Crowley breathed, pumping his fingers pointedly inside the angel, “I thought you said you wanted to see me.”

Aziraphale groaned and opened his eyes, meeting the demon’s gaze with nothing more than a whimper.

“Right. S’great, angel, keep ‘em open,” said Crowley, focusing his thumb on that plump red clit. “And keep slapping me; I think I can come from that.”

Aziraphale could do little more than comply with the request. A lustful noise came from somewhere deep in his throat, and he continued smacking Crowley’s cunt, his chest heaving in time with each slap. He rutted down on the demon’s fingers and bit his bottom lip _hard_ , brows drawn together in deep concentration on a feeling he never thought he’d have the privilege of experiencing with his dearest friend. He kept his eyes fixed on Crowley’s as he rode those long fingers, slapping the demon’s reddened cunt, and it didn’t take long for him to feel himself coming undone. “Oh, _Crowley_ , oh, _fuck_ , fuck, _fuck_ , I–” He convulsed on the demon’s fingers and, with no small amount of determination, managed to keep his eyes fixed on yellow irises as he came, mouth slack and body limp as soon as it was over.

“Oh, _fuck_ , angel,” Crowley whined, hardly having the time to remove his fingers from Aziraphale in order to hold him steady by his shoulders.

Aziraphale’s own fingers had gone still against the demon’s clit, and as the angel caught his breath, he seemed to become cognizant of this. He smiled through a contented sigh, and then, with a quirked brow and his twinkling eyes fixed on Crowley’s, smacked the tender skin under his fingers harder than ever before.

“ _Fuck_!” Crowley threw his head back, digging his nails into the angel’s shoulders. He brought his head back up and then settled it down into the crook of Aziraphale’s neck. “Again,” he groaned.

Aziraphale rubbed the demon’s clit and gave it another smack, but much, much lighter. Painfully lighter. _Too_ light.

Crowley whined against soft flesh. “Angel, _please_.”

“Mm,” came the reply, then a gentle kiss to the side of Crowley’s head. “I still need to _see_ you, my dear.” Aziraphale brought the hand that _wasn’t_ pressed firmly against a wet vulva up to Crowley’s back and guided him gently to turn. “Alright, Crowley. On your back.”

Crowley was quick to comply, and looked up at the angel who sat between his knees with reverence. How had he gotten so lucky, to be so well cared for by this angel? How did he end up with a love so full, so open, so honest, that he could meet those deep, sparkling eyes with his own cursed, tear-filled amber ones and say, unabashedly, “ _I love you, Aziraphale._ ”

Any lust that had consumed the angel moments prior seemed to vanish at those words. He blinked down at Crowley, his lips parting ever so slightly, and smiled. “Oh, my dear,” he breathed, reaching down to run his hand through tangled red hair. “I love you, too.” He jerked his hand away in sudden embarrassment, having remembered where it’d been just moments ago. He cleared his throat, then eyed the demon’s reddened cunt before dragging his gaze back up to Crowley’s. “Ah, should we perhaps finish you off, then?”

An amused smile crept onto the demon’s face. “You know that phrase suggests more of a _killing_ than a _coming_ , right?”

Aziraphale allowed a small smirk to tug at the corner of his lips before he said, his voice low, “Well, if we do this right, I believe it’s quite possible you might experience something of a ‘little death’.”

Crowley groaned, shutting his eyes for the briefest moment before remembering to _keep them open, damn you, he wants to see you_.

“How would you like me to touch you, my dear?”

Crowley bit his lip, then, holding the angel’s gentle gaze, “Like you were before, only faster.”

Aziraphale’s breath seemed to hitch as he placed his hand over Crowley’s cunt and, with a sharp inhale, raised and lowered his hand over that sensitive spot quicker than the demon expected, but still rather reserved in strength. Crowley groaned and reached a hand out to touch any angelic skin he could manage. “Tell me,” Aziraphale said, continuing those light smacks, “if it gets to be too much.”

“Not gonna happen,” Crowley shook his head mindlessly. “Gonna come soon.” He gasped at the next slap against his skin, but it still wasn’t enough. “Harder,” he encouraged. “Please. ‘M not fragile, angel.”

With ever-widening eyes and a deep groan, Aziraphale adjusted his movements to Crowley’s request. The room echoed with the sounds of wet, fast spanking and all sorts of delightful little whimpers and moans from the one being spanked.

If either of them had cared to keep track, they’d have noted that Aziraphale averaged about nine slaps to Crowley’s cunt per second. But those rapid smacks delivered too much pleasure for Crowley to register the numbers, and Aziraphale was a bit too drunk on the demon’s pleasure to take note of anything else.

“M’gonna come, Aziraphale, I– _Fuck_ , I’m gonna come.”

Aziraphale, bless him, managed to increase the rate of those slaps to 14 a second, sacrificing some force for the sake of speed. It was almost as though his fingers were _vibrating_ against Crowley’s bright red clit, which tore a howl from the demon. “That’s it,” Aziraphale cooed. “Come for me, Crowley. Let go, my love.”

Crowley did. He came with a breathless exclamation of Aziraphale’s name, and felt himself squirt further evidence of his orgasm onto the angel’s hand and torso and the already-sweat-soaked sheets beneath them. It might have been mortifying if Aziraphale hadn’t immediately groaned and lifted his hand to have a lick at the juices that had flooded over it.

As though that weren’t enough, Aziraphale lowered his head and lapped up the rest of the wetness between Crowley’s legs until the demon let out a strangled cry and tugged him up by his hair. “Too much,” he breathed, “’s too much.”

Aziraphale smiled softly, reaching up to bring Crowley’s hand down from his hair to his mouth, and gave his knuckles a kiss. He cupped the demon’s vulva with his other hand and breathed a sigh against Crowley’s palm. “You were so good for me, Crowley.” A bright smile. “You _are_ so good for me.”

Crowley whimpered, his thighs trembling on either side of Aziraphale’s firm hand. Whether he’d been emotionally swept up in the angel’s love, or simply overwhelmed by his suddenly oversensitive clit, tears gathered at the corners of his eyes and he let them fall. He let Aziraphale see exactly what he’d done to him, how vulnerable he made him, how unashamed he was to _be_ so vulnerable.

“I love you so deeply, my dear.”

“Love you more,” Crowley said, his voice raw as though he’d never spoken before in his life.

“I didn’t realize it was a competition.” Aziraphale gave the smallest hint of a chuckle, then clasped his hand in Crowley’s, and brought his other miraculously clean hand up to run through sweat-damp auburn hair. They stayed like that for a moment, Crowley contentedly closing his eyes as the angel held his hand and pet him. Then, Aziraphale broke the silence with a sigh. “Let’s get cleaned up, then, hm?” He wrinkled his nose. “I’m beginning to feel a bit _sticky_.”

Crowley huffed a tired laugh, and opened his eyes. He snapped the hand that wasn’t in Aziraphale’s and suddenly they were clean, dry, and in satin pajamas against fresh, crisp sheets. Crowley had given himself his usual black nightwear and dressed Aziraphale in a cream-colored set.

The angel looked down at his suddenly clean and clothed body, then back to Crowley with a soft smile. “Thank you.”

“Mm.” Crowley pulled on the hand in his own until Aziraphale settled to the right of him on the bed. He shifted onto his right side and gently tugged on the angel’s shoulder until Aziraphale mirrored him. Crowley pushed their foreheads together, bumped their noses, then pressed a chaste kiss to reddened lips. He pulled back just enough to be able to look into Aziraphale’s eyes without things being all blurry. “Hi,” he said through a lazy grin.

Aziraphale chuckled. “Well, hello!”

“I liked that a lot.”

“Mm,” Aziraphale nodded. “I think we should make a habit of it.”

“Oh, unarguably.”

“Should have made a habit of it long ago,” Aziraphale said, more matter-of-fact than wistful, but the recognition of what could have been was still there.

Crowley shook his head. “None of that. Not getting us anywhere.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement, then exhaled. He darted his gaze to several of his favorite points on Crowley’s face. His eyes, his lips, his cheekbones, his lips, his brow, his nose, his jaw, his lips, his ears, his lips, his eyes, his lips… Aziraphale leaned forward just enough to brush his mouth against those lips. Those lips which had begun to smirk upon realizing they’d garnered so much attention from the angel. “I love you,” he whispered against _those lips_.

“Are you talking to me, or my mouth?”

Aziraphale gave Crowley’s arm a light smack. “Oh, hush.”

The demon grinned. “The question still stands.”

“If you keep poking fun at me, I won’t be talking to _either_.”

Crowley chuckled, then threw his hand around the angel’s back, pulling him closer until they were flush against each other. He nestled his head against Aziraphale’s shoulder and let his arms come to rest between their chests. His left leg snaked its way between Aziraphale’s knees and his foot hooked around the angel’s ankle. After heaving a deep sigh, Crowley mumbled against a satin-covered shoulder, “S’nice.”

Aziraphale hummed in agreement, and brought his right hand up to run through Crowley’s hair. After a few silent minutes, he asked, his voice barely above a whisper, “What would you say to a nap?”

The answer would have been “yes”, if Crowley had been awake to give it. Aziraphale lifted his head just enough to get a glimpse of the sleeping demon that lay snuggled against his chest. He looked so peaceful, perhaps the most relaxed he’d ever seen him. Which was saying something, given that Aziraphale had always recognized Crowley as being the more laid back between the two of them. His mouth curved up at the edges ever so slightly, and Aziraphale couldn’t resist the urge to lean down and press a feather-light kiss to the demon’s cheek.

He settled back down, pulling Crowley closer against his chest, and breathed a contented sigh, closing his eyes. He could get used to this. He felt stronger than ever in such a tender moment. He felt safe. He felt at home. He could feel himself drifting off to sleep as he whispered into Crowley’s hair, “Rest well, my dear.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Content Notice: so much sex. miracle-ing away clothes. cunnilingus. 69ing. fingering. clit spanking. squirting. whatever come eating is when it’s just licking up the product of squirting. prolonged eye contact during sex. obscene amounts of fluff. lil bit of crying after sex. no protection because they’re magical beings. (use a dental dam, human friends!!!! stay safe!)
> 
> I have ideas about continuing this story but I also kinda just want them to be happy and leave it at that, so. We shall see if it ends here or not.


End file.
